Muller was a little surprised to see two black-uniformed men as well, an SS-Hauptsturmfuhrer (Captain) and an SS-Scharfuhrer (Staff Sergeant) standing to one side behind the Railway Police checkpoint.
The SS-SD rarely wasted its time standing around railway platforms.
When the train stopped, Muller took his leather suitcase from his compartment, stepped off the train, and walked the few steps to the checkpoints.
Before he could take his credentials from his pocket, the Hauptsturmfuhrer, smiling, walked up to him, gave the stiff-armed salute, and barked, “Herr Obersturmbannfuhrer Muller?”
“I’m Muller.”
“Heil Hitler!” the Hauptsturmfuhrer said, and then barked again, “Take the Obersturmbannfuhrer’s luggage, Scharfuhrer!” The Scharfuhrer took Muller’s suitcase from his hand.
“Standartenfuhrer Kramer sent us to meet you, Herr Obersturmbannfuhrer, the Hauptsturmfuhrer said. “He hopes that your schedule will permit you to call upon him, but if you are pressed for time, we are at your service to take you where you wish to go.”
“Very kind of the Standartenfuhrer,” Muxer said. “I look forward to seeing him.” Muxer knew Kramer slightly. He was the commanding officer of the Hessian region of the SS-SD. He was a jovial man, fat, a politician, a man who had become what he was because of who and not what he knew.
Muxer wondered what the hell he wanted.
An Opel Admiral, obviously Kramer’s own official car, was parked outside the Hauptbahnhof. With the cooperation of the policeman on duty, it made an illegal U-turn and drove Muller to SS-SD headquarters for Hesse, a turn-of-the century villa across a wide lawn from the curved corporate headquarters of the I. G. Farben Chemical Company. On the way, they passed the Frankfurt office building of FEG, the Fulmar Elektrische Gesellschaft.
“My dear Johnny,” Kramer said when he saw Muller in his office door, and then he came from behind his desk, hand extended. KI’m glad they found you.” He did not, Muller noticed, say’ Heil Hitler!”
“Having me met was very kind of you, Herr Standartenfuhrer,” Muller said.
“You don’t know, do you?” Kramer asked happily. “I rather thought you might not.”
“Sir?” “Geehr,” Kramer said to the Hauptsturmfuhrer, “will you give him his Christmas present, please?” Geehr clicked his heels and made a little bow as he handed Muxer small, tissue-wrapped package.
As Muxer unwrapped it, Kramer said, “I telephoned Berlin the moment it came over the wire, Johnny, and they told me you were on leave.
I took a chance that you were coming home, and had Geehr meet the Berlin trains.
You were on the second one.” The box contained the shoulder boards and lapel insignia of an SSSTANDARTENFUHRER. When Muxer looked at Kramer, Kramer beamed.
“May I presume, Herr Standartenfuhrer,” Kramer said, “that I have the great privilege of being the first to congratulate you on your well-deserved promotion?”
“I had no idea,” Muxer said, truthfully.
“With rank as of 1 December,” Kramer said and snapped his fingers.
Geehr handed him a sheet of Teletype paper, which Kramer then handed to Muller.
There was no question about it. He had his own paragraph, “May I keep this?” Muller asked as Kramer first enthusiastic’lly pumped his hand.
Then, with a snap of his fingers, Kramer ordered Geehr to produce a tray with a bottle of cognac and glasses.
“Yes, of course,” Kramer said, and then, “The timing is a little awkward.” Ksir?”s
“If it weren’t Christmas Eve, Johnny, I would insist on doing more than offe ring a glass of schnapps,” Kramer said. “But I daresay you are anxious to get home.”
“My train is at half past five,” Muller said.
“Nonsense. We have a car for you, of course, Herr Standartenfuhrer.”
“That’s very kind,” Muller said.
KWITH a driver, of course,” Kramer added.
“I don’t want to be responsible for someone having the duty on Christmas, Muller said.
“That’s very kind of you, then,” Kramer said. “What have we the Standartenfuhrer can drive?”
“We have that nice little Autounion roadster, Herr Standartenfuhrer,” Geehr said.
“Splendid!” Kramer said. “That alright with you, Johnny?
“That would be fine,” Muller said.
“And if you’ll take off your tunic, Johnny, I’ll have Frau Zern put the proper insignia on it.” As Muller handed his tunic to Kramer’s secretary, Kramer said, “I realize this sounds odd, but I was about to say perhaps we can have a drink together at the funeral.”